UC-NRLF 


IflS 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  Of 
CALIfOKNIA 


PlIVATE+LlBKARY 


MEMORY'S  GOLDEN    U 


A  RETROSPECTIVE  VIEW  OF  MAN'S  JOURNEY  FROM  His 

MOTHER'S  ARMS  TO  THE  ARMS  OF  THE  OLD  ARM 

CHAIR,    AND   WHAT   THE  JOURNEY 

TEACHES. 


By   J.  W.    CHAFFIN,   A.  M., 

Author  of  "  The  Battle  of  Calvary ." 


CHICAGO: 

R.  R.  M'CABE  &  Co.,  Printers,  57  Washing-ton  Street. 

1875- 


LIB* 


MEMORY'S    GOLDEN    URN  ; 


A  Retrospective  View  of  Man's  Journey  from  his  Mother's 

Arms  to  the  Arms  of  the  Old  Arm-Chair,  and 

What  the  Journey  Teaches. 


CHAPTER  I. 

OKILIDIHIOOID- 
I. 


Alone  I  sit  in  stillness  of  the  night, 
While  visions  rise  before  my  inner  sight; 
They're  visions  of  my  early  childhood  days, 
And  those  of  later  years,  on  which  I  gaze. 
They  come  with  glory  clad  before  my  eyes, 
Like  angel  forms  from  sinless  Paradise. 


ii. 


1  seem  to  live  my  early  life  again, 

And  far  recede  from  sphere  of  careworn  men. 


495 


^EMORY'S  POLDEN 


I  lie  enfolded  in  my  Mother's  arms, 

All  wrapt  in  early  spotless  childhood's  charms. 

I'm  fondly  pressed  to  mother's  heart  once  more, 

As  in  those  sinless,  artless  days  of  yore. 

Her  voice  of  love,  I  heard  in  childhood's  bower, 

Touched  chords  which  vibrate  to  the  present  hour. 

Through  all  my  noisy,  busy,  troublous  years 

That  voice  came  stealing  sweetly  on  my  ears; 

While  mountain  billows  fierce  around  did  roll, 

It  touched  and  soothed  and  lifted  up  my  soul. 

^Eolian  Harp  whose  sweetest  symphonies 

Enraptured  all  the  old  ^Eolides, 

Ne'er  lent  to  passing  wind  so  sweet  a  strain 

As  that  which  comes  within  my  heart  again. 


The  evening  song  of  loving  father  dear, 
Is  falling  now  upon  my  list'ning  ear. 
Sweet  lyre  of  Orpheus — the  harp  of  gold, 
Whose  charming  music  o'er  Olympus  rolled, 
Ne'er  filled  the  Argonauts  with  such  delight 
As  father's  song  doth  fill  my  soul  to-night. 

IV. 

The  joyous  laugh  and  noise  of  tiny  feet 

Once  more  these  anxious  bending  ears  do  greet; 

I  breathe  afresh  amid  the  shady  bowers 

The  fragrant  breath  of  early  woodland  flowers. 


MEMORY'S  POLDEN  JJRN. 


To  mother  dear  in  joyful  haste  I  bring 

A  floral  offering  from  the  lap  of  spring. 

In  hearty,  joyous  glee  I  chase  again 

The  humming-bird — that  swiftly  flying  gem, 

And  see  the  tiny  thing  with  plumage  fair 

Poising  itself  on  wing  amid  the  air. 

The  gorgeous,  golden-tinted  butterflies 

Again  from  moistened  earth  before  me  rise. 

They  gently  move — a  variegated  band, 

Eluding  still  the  grasp  of  childish  hand. 

I  watch  the  fleecy  clouds  in  squadrons  fly 

In  quick  succession  'neath  the  arching  sky, 

And  think  in  them  well  might  the  angels  ride, 

In  all  their  matchless  beauty,  pomp  and  pride. 

Again  I  bow  upon  the  tender  knee, 

Beneath  the  overhanging  willow  tree; 

At  gurgling  tide  I  slake  my  thirst  once  more, 

As  in  the  joyous,  childish  days  of  yore. 

No  nectar  stream  e'er  gave  so  sweet  a  draught 

As  that  which  I  in  early  childhood  quaffed. 

v. 

Now  haunts  of  riper  childhood  years  are  seen, 
O'erspread  with  more  than  gorgeous  silver  sheen. 
My  thoughts  are  fragrant  of  those  sunny  bowers, 
Where  oft  I  gathered  aromatic  flowers; 
And  tender  voices  through  my  mem'ry  come, 
And  scenes  familiar  of  the  years  agone. 


MEMORY'S  POLDEN 


VI. 


I  hear  again  the  robin's  early  lay, 

While  in  the  east  there  comes  the  flush  of  day. 

I  breathe  the  breath  of  morning  as  it  glows, 

While  dew-drops  linger  still  upon  the  rose; 

And  in  the  later,  warmer,  sunny  hours, 

See  honey-bees  draw  nectar  from  the  flowers. 

I  rove  again  o'er  undulating  fields, 

Whose  clover-bloom  the  richest  perfume  yields. 


VII. 

I  join  my  playmates  as  in  times  agone, 

And  trip  with  them  once  more  o'er  greenclad  lawn. 

No  pastures  of  Messenia's  ancient  land, 

Nor  yet  Laconia's  emerald  fields  most  grand, 

Of  which  we  are  so  picturesquely  told 

By  great  Euripides  of  Athens  old, 

Were  ever  half  so  gorgeously  arrayed, 

As  were  the  lawns  on  which  I  oft-times  played. 

VIII. 

With  joyous  heart  I  seem  to  bound  again, 
'Mid  fields  of  nodding,  ripening,  golden  grain; 
Once  more  in  meadows  sweet  I  join  in  play, 
And  smell  the  incense  of  the  new-mown  hay. 
The  forest  grand  again  I  seem  to  see, 
While  squirrel  leaps  once  more  from  tree  to  tree. 


^EMORY'S  POLDEN  JJRN. 


The  songs  of  birds  are  falling  on  the  ear — 

The  songs  with  joyous  heart  I  used  to  hear. 

Athwart  the  little  silvery,  purling  rill, 

Is  placed  again  the  imitative  mill. 

And  now  my  kite  is  borne  on  breeze  so  high, 

It's  like  a  speck  against  the  azure  sky; 

Successful  aeronaut  ne'er  felt  so  proud, 

When  silken  palace  reached  the  far  off  cloud, 

As  did  I,  when  that  toy  so  frail  and  fair 

Was  borne  aloft  on  currents  of  the  air. 

I'm  angling  now  along  the  water's  side, 

Where  silvery  fish  are  darting  through  the  tide; 

The  sleepless  stream  of  Cephisus  of  old, 

Whose  currents  through  the  land  of  Phocis  rolled, 

Described  so  grandly,  as  the  student  sees, 

In  writings  of  the  ancient  Sophocles, 

Nor  that  which  once  Parnissus'  banks  did  lave, 

Possessed  such  charms,  or  e'er  such  pleasures  gave, 

As  did  those  streams  by  which  I  used  to  play 

In  riper  childhood's  joyous,  sunny  day. 

IX. 

And  now  I  stand  in  autumn's  chilly  night, 
And  gaze  upon  Aurora's  streakings  bright, 
And  wonder  if  they  are  but  prophecies 
Of  crimson  wars  and  dread  calamities. 
I  watch  the  meteors  as  they  quickly  fly, 
Like  corruscations  'ne&th  the  star-decked  sky, 


POLDEN  ]JRN. 


And  wonder  whence  they  come  and  where  they  go, 
With  all  their  grandeur  and  with  all  their  glow. 

x. 

The  winter  comes,  and  brightly  burns  the  fire, 

Enkindled  then  by  hands  of  loving  sire; 

Nor  comes  from  grates  of  burning  coal  such  glow, 

As  came  from  open  hearth  of  long  ago. 

Once  more  with  brothers  dear  I  seem  to  bound, 

While  thickly  fall  the  snow-flakes  on  the  ground; 

I  join  with  them  as  in  that  joyous  day, 

And  swiftly  ride  upon  the  slender  sleigh; 

Now  in  great  glee  and  in  my  boyish  pride, 

Again  I'm  skating  on  the  frozen  tide. 

I  sit  in  loving  family  group  once  more, 

As  in  those  grand  old  winter  nights  of  yore. 

The  old  log  school-house  with  its  puncheon  floor, 

And  string  and  latchet  at  the  rude  made  door — 

In  all  its  well-known  features  reappears, 

As  in  my  early  joyous  schooling  years. 

No  alma  mater  can  in  mem'ry  hold 

More  sacred  place  than  that  rude  house  of  old. 

XI. 

The  voices  of  my  early  schoolmates  dear, 
Are  falling  now  distinctly  on  my  ear; 
I  seem  to  read  once  more  with  thrilling  joy, 
A  book  I  read  in  school,  when  but  a  boy; 


MEMORY'S  POLDEN   URN. 


A  book,  for  rich  instruction  and  sublime, 

Has  had  no  equal  in  the  later  time: 

'Tis  grand  old  "  English  Reader,"  book  of  yore, 

On  which  I  feast  my  eyes  and  heart  once  more. 

Again  with  wondrous  joy  I  seem  to  pass, 

In  triumph  to  the  head  of  spelling  class; 

Nor  did  Great  Alexander  ever  know 

A  greater  pride  than  mine  o'er  vanquished  foe, 

Nor  did  he  deem  his  vict'ry  more  complete, 

When  all  the  world  lay  conquered  at  his  feet. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Now  come  the  scenes  of  joyous  youthful  time, 

All  filled  with  hopes  and  radiance  sublime. 

I  seem  ensphered  in  youth's  sweet  paradise, 

And  all  its  pleasing  sports  before  me  rise. 

I  doff  the  hat  and  linen  garb  once  more. 

And  leave  them  lying  on  the  emerald  shore, 

Arid  plunge  beneath  the  running,  sparkling  stream, 

Nor  of  the  slightest  danger  do  I  dream. 

The  ancient  Priestess  who  was  purified 

By  bathing  in  Castalia's  crystal  tide, 


10 


MEMORY'S  POLDEN  JJRN. 


Which  at  Parnassus'  base  did  grandly,  flow, 
In  mystic  ages  of  the  long  ago, 
Did  never  feel  a  grander  cleansing  power, 
Than  did  I  feel  in  that  sweet  bathing  hour. 

ii. 

Again  I  wend  along  the  shady  vale, 
A  thousand  fragrant  odors  I  inhale. 
Its  gorgeous  scenery  which  around  me  lay 
Is  grander  far  than  that  of  Thessaly: 
No  vale  of  Tempe  with  its  sylvan  calm 
E'er  sent  such  joys  to  heart  of  Grecian  man, 
As  once  I  shared  in  vales  I  used  to  roam, 
Near  by  my  early,  humble,  childhood  home. 

in. 

I  climb  again  the  side  of  rugged  hill, 
And  in  my  heart  I  feel  a  joyous  thrill. 
Old  Mount  Olympus  peering  in  its  pride, 
With  Ossa  standing  near  its  southern  side, 
Ne^er  gave  to  man  or  gods  such  joys  sublime, 
As  gave  to  me  the  hills  I  used  to  climb. 

IV. 

And  now  I'm  perched  upon  the  champing  steed, 
And  off  I  dash  I  think  with  matchless  speed. 
Fleet  Pegasus  renowned  in  mythic  lore, 
That  for  great  Zeus  awful  thunder  bore, 


MEMORY'S  POLDEN  URN.  11 

Could  not  in  swiftness  keep  along  the  side. 
The  proud  and  noble  steed  I  used  to  ride. 

v. 

At  close  of  day  I  seem  to  sit  once  more 
With  brother,  sister,  at  dear  father's  door, 
And  watch  the  queenly  moon  in  yonder  sky — 
Talk  of  her  seas,  and  vales,  and  mountains  high. 
And  there  amid  the  evening  twilight  still, 
I  hear  again  the  song  of  Whip-poor-will. 


Now  Autumn  time,  as  in  those  early  years, 
In  all  its  solemn  grandeur  re-appears. 
The  forest  leaves  of  golden  hue  I  see: 
Brown  nuts  are  falling  from  the  monarch  tree: 
The  grand  old  cultured  orchards  all  around, 
With  rip'ning  fruits  are  bending  to  the  ground: 
Nor  did  the  garden  of  Hesperides 
E'er  yield  such  fruit  as  did  my  father's  trees. 

VII. 

But  now  I  pass  from  early  youth  so  dear, 

To  riper  youth's  grand  Eldorado  sphere. 

My  pathway  leads  'mid  sweet  entwining  flowers- 

As  sweet  as  those  which  grew  in  Eden's  bowers. 

No  withered  buds  of  promise  yet  are  seen: 

The  leaves  are  clad  in  fadeless  living  green. 


^MEMORY'S    pOLDEN    JJRN. 


No  shadow  yet,  has  gathered  o'er  my  skies, 
And  hope's  grand  visions  come  before  my  eyes: 
Warm-hearted  friends  are  gath'ring  all  around, 
The  future  years  are  with  a  radiance  crowned: 
The  stream  of  life  on  which  I'm  gently  borne, 
As  vet  has  never  felt  the  raging  storm: 
Ten  thousand  streamlets  now  from  ev'ry  side, 
Come  leaping  in  to  swell  its  pearly  tide. 

VIII. 

I  feel  within  the  depths  of  youthful  heart, 

A  wondrous  power  into  action  start  — 

A  greater  force  than  that  which  doth  control 

Stupendous  orbs  which  in  their  orbits  roll. 

The  power  I  feel  within  my  bosom  move 

Is  that  of  wondrous,  and  resistless  Love: 

'Tis  love  for  faultless,  artless,  charming  maid  — 

One  at  whose  sacred  shrine  my  heart  is  laid. 

Fair  Andromeda  of  the  times  of  old, 

Of  whom  we  are  in  ancient  legends  told  — 

Whose  beauty,  as  historic  student  sees, 

Surpassed  the  beauty  of  the  Nersides, 

Could  not  in  grace  and  beauty  be  compared 

With  her,  who  once  my  first  aifections  shared. 

IX. 

In  academic  halls  once  more  I'm  found, 
With  fellow  students  greeting  all  around: 


^EMORY'S  POLDEN 


13 


I  see  again  as  in  those  youthful  years 

The  Hill  of  Science  which  in  grandeur  peers; 

I  now  ascend  afresh  its  rugged  side 

And  feel  again  the  thrill  of  student's  pride. 

1  pluck  afresh  'mid  its  sequestered  bowers 

Most  beautiful  and  aromatic  flowers. 

I  quaff  its  limpid  waters  as  they  roll, 

Which  give  enlargement  to  the  mind  and  soul. 

And  as  I  gaze  toward  its  lofty  crest, 

I  feel  again  new  purpose  and  new  zest. 

Ambition's  fires  are  burning  in  my  heart — 

I  will  excel  in  science  and  in  art: 

Resolved  am  I,  my  name  shall  yet  be  found, 

Enrolled  among  the  great  and  high  renowned. 

I  trust  that  at  my  country's  pressing  call, 

My  voice  shall  echo  in  the  Senate  Hall, 

Or  that  in  literary  world  I'll  rise, 

Like  star  of  brightest  luster  in  the  skies. 

o 

Then  fields  of  science  wide  I  shall  explore, 
And  fill  my  mind  with  richest  ancient  lore. 
Proud  vessel — filled    with  glowing  hopes,  doth  ride 
On  life's  most  grand  and  smooth  and  silv'ry  tide. 
While  wide  the  gate  of  promise  doth  unfold, 
Upon  a  distant,  gorgeous  sea  of  gold; 
And  mighty  castles  in  their  grandeur  rise 
With  domes  uplifted  high  toward  the  skies. 


14 


MEMORY'S  POLDEN 


CHAPTER  III. 


I'm  gathering  books  with  an  eclectic  hand, 

And  strive  to  make  them  yield  their  treasures  grand. 

I  seek  to  understand  proud  nature's  laws 

And  trace  her  movements  each,  to  secret  cause. 

With  Miller  to  the  depths  of  earth  descend — 

'Mid  ancient  fossils,  there  my  steps  to  wend: 

And  try  to  read  on  rocky  tablets  old, 

How  long  this  earth  hath  in  its  orbit  rolled. 

With  Newton  now  in  ecstasy  I  rise, 

And  tread  the  star-paved  aisles  of  grand  old  skies. 

With  Locke  and  Edwards  in  their  grasp  sublime, 

I  try  to  trace  the  rnyst'ries  of  the  mind. 

And  now  the  hist'ry  of  the  plants  I  trace, 

And  that  of  bird  and  beast  and  human  race. 

ii. 

On  nature's  beauties  now  I  feast  my  eyes — 
The  beauties  of  the  land,  the  seas  and  skies. 
Still  deeper  in  her  hidden  depths  I  go, 
Where  marv'lous  beauties  all  around  me  glow; 
By  microscopic  aid  the  natural  eye 
A  universe  of  wonders  doth  descry. 


^EMORY'S  POLE>EN  ]JRN  15 

And  now  I'm  fixing  on  still  wider  plan, 

For  proud  achievments  of  the  mental  man: 

I'll  fill  my  study  with  rich  books  of  lore, 

And  wider  fields  of  learning  I'll  explore. 

My  mental  life  shall  grow  more  deep  and  wide, 

Like  grandest  river's  ever  onward  tide. 

Indeed,  the  highest  cultured  man  in  time, 

Has  but  commenced  his  upward  march  sublime, 

And  while  he's  here  he's  but  a  prophecy 

Of  what  he'll  in  eternal  future  be. 

in. 

Great  wealth  I  seem  to  grasp  with  eager  hands, 
Palatial  home  before  my  vision  stands: 
Its  parlors  grand,  their  grandeur  do  unfold, 
Like  nature's  evening  parlor  hung  with  gold; 
And  gorgeous  hopes  within  are  mounting  high, 
As  streaks  of  gold  ascend  the  morning  sky: 
The  thought  is  cherished  in  the  depth  of  soul, 
That  1  shall  reach  ere  long  the  distant  goal. 

IV. 

I  now  at  Hymen's  altar  gently  bow, 

And  breathe  from  depth  of  heart  the  marriage  vow. 

The  cup  I  drink  amid  the  festal  scene, 

Is  sweeter  far  than  fabled  nectar  stream. 

Warm-hearted  friends  are  now  on  ev'ry  side, 

As  out  I  sail  upon  life's  grander  tide. 


16  MEMORY'S  POLDEN 


As  yet  this  sea  has  neither  storm  nor  crest  — 
It  lies  as  if  in  calm  nocturnal  rest. 
Cerulean,  serene  are  arching  skies, 
Sweet  zephyrs  come,  as  if  from  paradise. 
Ten  thousand  charms  along  my  journey  play- 
I  onward  haste  to  realms  of  bright'ning  day. 


I'm  proudly  sitting  by  a  being  fair, 

Who  doth  my  joys  and  heartfelt  sorrows  share. 

Her  eye,  to  me,  like  Heaven's  gate  above, 

Reveals  a  sea  of  purity  and  love. 

Her  tones  like  waves  of  Heaven's  music  roll, 

In  solemn,  soothing  grandeur  o'er  my  soul. 

'Tis  her  on  whom  I  gladly  did  bestow 

My  heart's  great  wealth  of  love,  long  years  ago. 

And  now  I  sit  amid  these  happy  days, 

And  watch  my  children  in  their  joyous  plays. 

I  join  with  them  in  all  their  childish  glee, 

And  feel  again  the  heights  of  ecstasy. 

I  see  them  trip  along  with  step  so  light, 

And  hear  the  well-known  voices  say  u  Good-night." 

I  trace  them  as  they  reach  the  riper  years, 

And  feel  within,  my  mingled  hopes  and  fears. 

VI. 

I've  reached  the  glory  of  my  manhood  time, 

And  feel  as  though  my  strength  shall  ne'er  decline: 


^EMORY'S  POLDEN   PRN.  17 

Not  stronger  was  great  Hercules  of  old, 

Of  whom  we  are  in  Grecian  legends  told; 

Nor  did  Tydides  of  more  ancient  days, 

Who,  Homer  says,  "  Enormous  weights  could  raise," 

To  men  of  far  back  Golden  Age  reveal 

A  greater  strength  than  I  this  moment  feel. 


Now  pressing  cares  are  greatly  multiplied, 
And  disappointments  come  on  every  side. 
The  overarching  sky,  once  calm  and  bright, 
By  darkling  clouds  is  hidden  from  my  sight. 
And  now  I  find  my  vessel,  launched  in  pride, 
Is  out  upon  a  deep  and  storm-tossed  tide. 
Instead  of  gentle  zephyrs  as  before, 
I  hear  the  tempest's  wild  and  dreadful  roar. 

VIII. 

One  solemn  truth  to  me  is  now  proclaimed, 
That  I  the  zenith  of  my  strength  have  gained. 
All  things  material  that  live  and  grow,- 
Have  bounds  of  growth,  nor  can  beyond  them  go. 
This  law  of  limit,  we  rejoice  to  find, 
Does  not  inhere  in  nature  of  the  mind. 
Indeed,  the  changeless  laws  of  mind  do  teach, 
The  end  of  mental  growth  we'll  never  reach: 
That  while  the  outer  man  is  in  its  prime 
The  inner  man  is  in  its  infant  time. 


18 


^EMORY'S  POLDEN  ]JRN. 


There's  no  fixed  circle  in  eternity, 
In  which  we  ever  shall  revolving  be. 

IX 

Now  'neath  my  toils  and  rapid  flight  of  time 

I  feel  approach  of  physical  decline. 

This  one  prophetic  truth  I've  found  of  late — 

Things  once  I  moved  seem  now  of  double  weight; 

The  hills  I  climbed  with  ease,  nor  thought  them  high, 

Now  lift  their  summits  far  up  toward  the  sky; 

Paths  once  I  trod  while  heedless  of  their  length, 

Now  lay  a  heavy  tribute  on  my  strength; 

My  locks  once  dark,  with  silver  now  are  laid, 

The  luster  of  my  eye  begins  to  fade; 

Great  time-made,  deepening  furrows  even  now, 

Are  found  upon  my  greatly  care-worn  brow. 

O  can  it  be,  this  once  strong  frame  of  mine, 

The  workmanship  of  Architect  Divine — 

This  temple  grander  and  more  wondrous  made 

Than  grandest  palace  with  its  gems  inlaid — 

O  can  it  be  this  temple  so  sublime, 

Ere  long  with  all  its  grandeur  must  decline? 

'Tis  hard  to  feel  that  it  so  soon  must  die, 

And  in  such  awful,  solemn  ruins  lie; 

But  why  should  I  one  moment  e'er  repine 

At  this  my  destined  Autumn  season  time? 

The  mighty  forests  clad  in  grand  array, 

Have  their  appointed  seasons  of  decay. 


MEMORY'S  POLDEN   URN  19 

Nor  should  I  ever  murmur  at  my  fate, 

As  'tis  transition  to  a  grander  state. 

To  me,  this  mortal  change  shall  surely  bring 

The  glories  of  a  never-ending  spring. 

This  body  sown  in  weakness,  shall  at  length, 

Be  raised  and  clad  with  an  immortal  strength. 

Then  let  its  present  splendor  pass  away, 

There'll  come  the  glories  of  the  better  day. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

O  LID      .A.  (3- IE. 
I. 

The  snow  of  time  is  resting  on  my  head: 
My  golden  years  of  life  have  well  nigh  fled: 
And  while  I  sit  beside  Life's  tide  below, 
I'm  catching  gleams  of  that  bright  long  ago. 
O  this  to  me  is  Resurrection  night! 
Long-buried  scenes  are  bursting  into  sight. 
They  come  before  my  now  enraptured  eyes, 
And  linger  like  the  dreams  of  Paradise. 
The  dead  revive  as  with  a  magic  wand — 
Before  me  in  their  grace  and  beauty  stand. 

ii. 

Once  more  have  come  before  my  inner  sight, 
The  bowers  of  my  childish  heart's  delight: 


^EMORY'S  POLDEN  ]JRN. 


Their  leaves  are  sere,  their  flowers  are  no  more — 
They  all  have  vanished  with  the  days  of  yore. 
Too  transient  was  that  sunny  childhood  day, 
Like  fragile  rose  it  bloomed  and  died  away. 
Its  fragrance  still  doth  linger  in  the  air; 
Its  music  still  the  gentle  zephyrs  bear. 

in. 

I've  also  gone  in  mem'ry  back  to-night, 
To  youth-hood's  time  of  hopes  and  visions  bright. 
Alas!  its  scenes  and  joyous  hopes  have  fled; — 
Most  of  its  plans  are  numbered  with  the  dead. 
My  vessel  which  then  sailed  in  pride  and  glee, 
Lies  buried  low  'neath  Time's  great  rolling  sea. 
And  so  I've  seen  my  lofty  castles  all 
Like  ancient  temples  into  ruin  fall. 

IV. 

Again,  in  thought  I've  wended  back  my  way 
To  fresh  and  vigorous  Manhood's  active  day, 
When  plans  for  gaining  fortunes  of  the  world, 
Gulf  streams  in  trade  to  utter  ruin  hurled. 
And  thus  I've  seen  most  all  my  hopes  expire, 
As  clouds  of  gold  from  evening  skies  retire. 


If  mighty  nations  once  of  pomp  and  pride 
Are  lying  deeply  buried  side  by  side 


^EMORY'S  POLDEN  JJRN.  21 

Beneath  the  Mediterranean  Sea, 
As  ancient  nations  all  are  said  to  be, 
So  lie  my  cherished  earthly  hopes  sublime 
Beneath  the  ever-rolling  tide  of  Time. 


My  steps  grow  feeble,  tremulous,  and  few, 
While  onward  still  life's  journey  I  pursue. 
Like  balls  they  are,  which  lose  projectal  force 
When  nearly  ended  is  their  upward  course. 
And  still  with  quicker,  firmer  steps  I  rise, 
To  regions  far  beyond  the  star-lit  skies. 
Dull  is  my  touch  of  sense  to  outward  things, 
And  still  I  feel  the  wave  of  angel  wings. 
The  film  of  age  has  gathered  o'er  my  eyes, 
As  clouds  obscure  the  brightness  of  the  skies: 
But  clearer  come  before  my  inner  sight 
The  glories  of  that  world  of  cloudless  light. 
Time's  dulled  my  hearing  with  its  yearly  rounds, 
As  massive  walls  obstruct  the  march  of  sounds: 
But  more  distinctly  doth  the  inner  ear 
The  rolling  anthems  of  the  angels  hear. 

VII. 

My  heart  lies  open  as  the  open  day: 
Nor  in  it  does  one  vile  affection  play. 
The  carnal — fleshly  appetites  are  slain, 
And  spirit  now,  instead  of  flesh,  doth  reign. 


22  ^EMORY'S  POLDEN 


In  crystal  clearness,  like  the  limpid  lake 
Which  golden  stars  into  itself  doth  take, 
My  heart  takes  images  of  things  divine, 
And  there  I'd  have  them  ever  brightly  shine. 
I'm  freed  from  conflicts  of  ambitious  life: 
Have  laid  aside  earth's  tinsel  and  its  strife. 
My  eyes  are  open  to  the  rising  day, 
A  voice  divine  is  speaking  'long  the  way. 
I've  reached  the  upper  regions  of  the  soul, 
Where  no  obscuring  vapors  ever  roll. 

VIII. 

But  why  did  I,  for  such  achievements  wait 
Until  Old  Age,  or  in  life's  evening  late? 
Sure,  God  requires  such  vict'ries  to  be  won 
While  blood  is  warm,  and  passions  warmly  run. 
'Tis  cleansing  grace  of  God,  and  not  old  age, 
That  conquers  fleshly  passions  in  their  rage. 
If  grace  cannot  these  passions  thus  subdue, 
Then  Time  does  that  which  grace  can  never  do. 


I'm  gazing  upward  in  this  evening  late, 

While  well-known  faces  beam  from  heaven's  gate. 

I'm  smitten  now  with  beams  of  Paradise, 

And  Mounts  with  glory  clad  before  me  rise. 

I'm  upward  drawn  toward  the  seraphim, 

Where  pearly  gates  ere  long  shall  close  me  in: 


^EMORY'S  POLDEN  JJRN.  23 

I  see  the  hosts,  all  robed  in  spotless  white, 
Through  wide  unfolded  gates  of  love  and  light. 
Mine's  not  a  doubtful  title  to  that  land, 
By  faith  my  feet  already  on  it  stand. 
I'm  breathing,  even  now,  its  fragrant  air, 
I'm  plucking  of  its  fruits,  so  rich  and  fair. 
And  in  the  depths  of  wondrous  secret  soul, 
Its  melodies  do  grandly,  sweetly  roll. 

x. 

The  journey  of  my  life  will  soon  be  o'er, 
My  keel  ere  long  will  touch  the  other  shore: 
To  me  the  gate  of  death,  which  now  I  see, 
Shall  then  the  gate  of  coronation  be. 


CHAPTER   V. 

WHAT    THE    JOURNEY    TEACHES. 
I. 

Life's  Journey  hath  impressive  lessons  taught, 
Each  one  with  high  instruction  richly  fraught. 
One  is:  'tis  good  in  God,  as  well  as  wise, 
To  draw  a  veil  before  our  youthful  eyes. 
Were  youth  to  have  their  vision  opened  wide 
To  all  life's  woes,  to  Marah's  bitter  tide, 


24  ^EMORY'S  POLDEN 


And  see  how  empty  all  their  gorgeous  dreams 
Of  earthly  good  that  in  their  future  gleams, 
They'd  never  half  unfold  their  energies, 
Nor  spread  their  sails  far  out  upon  life's  seas. 
O  yes,  'tis  well  such  veil  our  eyes  doth  hold, 
Till  years  increase  and  we  our  strength  unfold, 
And  learn  to  look  from  transient  things  away, 
To  things  eternal,  'mid  eternal  day. 

n. 

This  lesson,  too,  Life's  Journey  doth  impart, 
P^ngraven  it  should  be  on  every  heart:  — 
That  all  life's  trials,  though  severe  they  be, 
May  prove  a  helpful,  blessed  ministry. 
From  these,  as  God's  alembic,  may  arise 
A  higher,  grander  life  'iieath  grander  skies. 
Like  fragrant  plants  are  Christian  virtues  found, 
Most  fragrant  when  they're  incensed  most  profound. 
The  grandest  Christian  men,  we  oft-times  see, 
Arise  from  vales  of  deep  adversity. 
But  let  this  truth  be  ever  kept  in  mind, 
A  truth  in  God's  eternal  Word  we  find: 
To  those  alone  these  trials  blessings  prove, 
Whose  hearts  are  stayed  on  God,  in  faith  and  love. 

in. 

Another  lesson  doth  life's  journey  yield, 
And  all  along  the  ages  'tis  revealed: 


MEMORY'S  POLDEN   URN.  25 

That  they  who  trust  in  God,  and  God  alone, 
As  firmly  stand  as  God's  eternal  throne. 
Proud  kingdoms  into  ruin  may  be  hurled, 
Moved  from  its  place  may  be  the  solid  world, 
Though  all  the  suns  and  planets  God  hath  made 
Were  in  one  heap  of  awful  ruins  laid, 
Yet  he  whose  faith  is  firm,  whose  love  is  pure, 
Would  stand  above  the  awful  wreck,  secure. 

IV. 

Life's  course  reveals  this  truth  in  ev'ry  land: 
That  life's  a  field  of  conflict  broad  and  grand. 
'Tis  grander  field  than  that  of  crimson  stain, 
Where  mighty  chieftains  are  by  chieftains  slain; 
It  calls  for  greater  courage  than  was  found 
In  Spartan  band,  in  hist'ry  so  renowned. 
And  greater  battles  here  are  fought  and  won 
Than  heroes  ever  fought  'neath  circling  sun. 
Though  Alexander,  with  triumphant  ranks, 
From  plains  of  Thebes  moved  on  to  Danube's  banks, 
And  from  the  Hellespont  did  proudly  go 
To  shores  of  wondrous  Nile,  'mid  mighty  foe; 
And  though  to  Indus,  in  his  conquering  pride, 
He  rolled  the  battle's  awful,  crimson  tide; 
Though  all  the  nations  then  so  great  and  proud 
Were  at  the  Conqueror's  feet  most  humbly  bowed, 
Yet  no  such  victory  did  he  ever  win, 
As  he  who  conquers  Titan  foes  within. 


^EMORY'S  POLDEN 


Another  lesson  hath  life's  race  revealed, 
Nor  should  it  from  the  godless  be  concealed. 
'Tis  this:   Life's  failures  do  not  bring  a  blight 
To  Christian  joys  and  prospects  of  delight; 
That  still  our  lives  may  lives  of  grandeur  be, 
And  lives  of  highest  joys  and  victory; 
Life's  not  a  failure,  though  all  worldly  schemes 
May  fruitless  be,  as  our  baseless  dreams. 
Let  heart  be  true  to  heart,  and  true  to  God, 
Then  none  need  fear  the  rough  and  thorny  road. 
The  Calvaries  which  in  the  pathway  rise 
Are  Mounts  of  Vision  lifting  to  the  skies. 

o 

The  clouds  which  o'er  the  journey  thickly  lie, 

Are  secret  places  of  the  Lord  Most  High. 

The  nights  that  o'er  the  mental  heavens  steal, 

But  stars  of  brightest  luster  do  reveal. 

The  surging  seas  that  like  the  thunders  roar, 

But  wash  most  precious  diamonds  to  the  shore. 

'Twas  on  the  stormy,  foaming  Galilee, 

Peter  and  James  and  John  their  Lord  did  see; 

'Twas  there  amid  the  winds  and  waves  so  high, 

They  heard  those  words:  "  Be  not  afraid;  'tis  I." 

There  Galilean  Sea  laid  wide  and  deep, 

And  calm  as  spotless  maiden's  dreamless  sleep. 

VI. 

We  should  not  dread  the  cup  of  gall  we  drink, 


^EMORY'S    pOLDEN 


Nor  ever  for  one  moment  dare  to  think 
That  God  will  leave  us  helpless  and  alone, 
While  still  our  hand  is  fixed  upon  His  Throne. 

VII. 

Another  lesson  doth  life's  span  unfold, 
More  precious  far  than  mines  of  richest  gold; 
'Tis  this —  There  is  no  hope  but  what  is  frail, 
Save  that  which  "  enters  that  within  the  vail." 
As  anchor  holds  the  ship  'mid  dashing  tide, 
While  awful  tempest  sweeps  the  ocean  wide, 
Nor  on  the  lee-shore  lets  the  vessel  strand, 
But  holds  it  fast,  as  with  omnific  hand, 
So  doth  the  anchor  Hope  sustain  the  soul, 
While  life's  great  billows  'round  it  wildly  roll. 

VIII. 

O  what  a  matchless  hope,  and  how  sublime! 

That  casts  its  brightness  o'er  the  sea  of  time; 

That  fringes  darkest  cloud  with  silver  sheen, 

And  clads  the  sterile  mount  with  living  green ; 

That  lifts  the  soul  from  deepest  vale  below, 

To  Mount  of  Vision  wrapped  in  Heaven's  glow; 

That  gives  us  strength  to  tread  life's  Calv'ry  road, 

And  firmly  walk  beneath  oppressive  load; 

That  strews  the  future  with  mosf  fragrant  flowers, 

And  leads  to  sweet,  enchanting,  fadeless  bowers; 


28  ^EMORY'S    pOLDEN 


That  conquers  death  whose  banner  is  unfurled 

In  triumph  now,  throughout  this  sin-cursed  world; 

That  goes  to  silent  cities  of  the  dead, 

Where  crawling  worms  on  sacred  flesh  are  fed, 

And  there  lifts  up  triumphant  song  sublime, 

And  sings  of  coming  Resurrection  time; 

That  opens  wide  before  our  longing  eyes, 

The  pearly  gates  of  sinless  paradise; 

That  joins  us  to  our  kindred  'round  the  throne, 

Where  tears  and  farewell  words  are  never  known; 

That  gives  us  Heaven's  eternal  golden  lyre, 

And  joins  us  to  the  chanting  angel  choir; 

That  points  to  future  vistas  grand  and  bright, 

To  endless  progress  in  the  realms  of  light, 

To  sparkling  truths  which  there  our  eyes  shall  see  — 

To  truths  in  depths  of  great  eternity  — 

To  heights  of  knowledge  even  yet  unknown 

To  prophet  old  or  angel  'round  the  throne. 

IX. 

Let  hopes  that  fill  the  youthful  heart  with  fire, 
Fade,  quickly  fade,  or  like  a  breath  expire: 
Let  hopes  of  manhood,  gorgeously  arrayed, 
Like  morning's  early  beauties  —  early  fade: 
Let  all  earth's  hopes  be  transient  as  the  flowers, 
But  let  this  anchor  hope  be  ever  ours  — 
This  deathless  hope  through  Revelation  given, 
A  hope  that  anchors  in  Eternal  Heaven. 


